A starry sky
by hoodrenka
Summary: One night, Hermione can't stand the loneliness anymore. Before she falls off the Astronomy tower, she has her final thoughts. /TW suicide and depression/


Hi guys !

I was super inspired this evening and decided to write a quick one shot !

Please keep in mind that English is only my second language, so there might be stuff in the text that doesn't make any sense ! If so, please let me know !

And I'll let you to it !

PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS ONE SHOT DEALS WITH SUICIDE AND IMPLIED DEPRESSION !

* * *

Relationships.

That word held a lot of meaning. Not the same for everyone, though. For Hermione, it represented a lack, of something she longed but always seemed to escape her. She wanted true relationships so bad it hurt, but hers always seemed one sided.

She felt so alone.

Seating on the railings of the astronomy tower, staring at the starry sky, she wondered. Would anyone miss her ? Sure, some would miss her presence, for they had grown accustomed to it, but would they truly miss her ? She had to laugh.

Of course they wouldn't. Who would miss Hermione Granger, insufferable swot, renowned bookworm, noisy know-it-all ? Well maybe her teachers, because she was - used to be a brilliant student, actually, but lately her grades had severely dropped. She was still the best student, because even without her hard work she was great, but her work blatantly missed the dedication it previously held.

She didn't know how her life had turned to this. She had been happy once, surrounded by friends, but now she felt like she would never be again.

Hermione had never been really good with people. She had no siblings, and she had always been the littlest of her cousins by far, therefore she had always been an outsider.

She had had a friend, when she was little, but then she moved away and she hadn't felt like she belonged to her new school. She was only eight, then, but she had everyone worried. Her teachers talked to her parents about how she was always by herself, doing weird things, not talking to anyone. Reading, obviously, because she had never read that much in her entire life. She had always loved books, ever since she could remember, and then it provided her an outlet, a place where she could hide and forget everything. When she read, she could be someone else, and imagine her life was better - she was happier, but reality always came crashing in. Once, she had locked herself in the toilets during the break, and she had cried the only friend she ever had for minutes. It took her teacher and classmates quite a lot of time to notice she wasn't there, and she had been forced to come out, even if she had wished to stay in there forever. It had taken threats to get her out, and while rationally she understood that they had to do it it didn't mean she good willingly went with it.

There was one memory from that time that stuck with her. It had been during winter, and there were freezing puddles of water everywhere in the schoolyard. For some reason, she had dipped her hands in one of them, relishing in the cold it offered, providing distraction for her malaise. A smaller kid, behind her, had asked one of her classmates what she was doing, to which they answered "don't worry about her, she's just weird". Hermione was just that, _weird_.

Then, she had come to Hogwarts, where she had been happy for a few years. It had felt good, knowing she was _actually_ different from others, because of magic. She had been eager to discover this brand new world where she could start anew, and she had read everything there was to know about it. She thought that she had finally found her place, and that everything would work out, but it seemed she had gotten her hopes up high.

For months now, Harry and Ron had been slowly, but surely, drifting away from her. At first, it was only little things, like how they always paired together and left her alone, or like how they always walked side to side in the corridors, while she followed them behind and therefore couldn't join in the conversation. It was small, minuscule details, that had started weighing down on her, and when she and Ron had stopped talking to each other, those details didn't seem so small anymore. Sure, Harry would tell her he was still her friend, but he would always take his lunch with Ron. They would always head for boys dormitories, where they knew she couldn't follow them. She had started being the third wheel in their relationship, and while she loved deeply and fiercely, she knew they didn't love her as much.

Little by little, she had started hurting. Not physically, but emotionally, until everything they did - or didn't - felt like a hit in her guts. Eventually, she became numb, feeling nothing but pain - nothing else, _at all_. She didn't smile anymore, she didn't read anymore, she didn't do _anything_ \- and they didn't notice. She overslept too many times, she disappeared for hours - hiding, mostly, in a place where she would be alone, and when she came back no one noticed she had been gone. Most of the time, though, she layed in bed, not doing anything because she didn't have the energy nor the will. She didn't want to do anything, even the things she liked, because she didn't like anything anymore - even reading, and she couldn't muster up energy. Even standing exhausted her, and she felt so tired, _all the time_. Sometimes, she just stopped breathing for as long as she could, because that way she didn't have to breathe air and fill her lunges - that, too was _exhausting_. She always ended up doing it, though, because choking would take so much more energy that she didn't have.

She used to think that things always got better, but she didn't anymore. When she envisioned the future, she only saw darkness. She wasn't even pessimistic, only realist - she knew nothing would change, until she died. She would live a long, unhappy life, waiting for a car to crash her, or for her heart to suddenly stop beating throughout the night, and then she would die the same way she was born and had lived -_ alone_.

She thought about death a lot. About how it would be nice, to just stop being, and stop hurting. About how she wouldn't cry at night anymore, or about how she wouldn't have some thoughts every time she saw a window. About how no one would break her heart some more, for there would be no heart to break.

She hadn't committed suicide, however, because she did not want to hurt the few people that still cared about her - only her parents, really. But her parents did not remember her anymore, and so nothing kept her from doing it. She hadn't wanted to do it for Harry's and Ron's sake, but she had came to realize they would get over it. And she couldn't do it anymore. Live. Exist. Breathe.

It was just too much for her.

She was truly alone, and nothing would ever change that.

And so she glanced at the stars, focusing her gaze one last time on the silver light they emitted, her hands let go of the railways, and she bent forward, a soft smile gracing her lips for the first time in months. At last, she felt free - and at peace.

And she fell.

* * *

I would love it if you told me what you thought about it - said the one girl that almost never leaves a review.

This is a one shot that I should turn into a story because I never really intended it to turn into a one shot - it was supposed to be a really deep, emotional Dramione fic. But the thing is, I have tons of stories that I started writing and never finished. Like, a whole lot of them. And I would love that say that I am definitely going to turn this into a story, but the sad truth is that I'll probably write a second chapter and no more. What can I say, I'm just really not good at writing ! I'm a reader first and foremost, and definitely not a writer !

Let's just end this incessant chatter here, will you ?


End file.
